


Help me (or I could die)

by Sad_but_writes_anyway



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, peter parker hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24865906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sad_but_writes_anyway/pseuds/Sad_but_writes_anyway
Summary: Peter comes home from Spider-Manning with a stab wound that’s getting infected. He doesn’t know what to do so he heads up to the lab where Tony was.Will he get the help he needs before it’s too late?————————(Sorry, my summaries suck! Lol!)
Relationships: Tony Stark and Peter Parker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 127





	Help me (or I could die)

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably one of my favorites that I have ever written because I really don’t see this happening. This literally came to me when I had an infection that was really not that bad! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy like I did!

Peter Parker simply watched as his blood went down the drain that was in front of him. He didn’t react to it really, only because he knew he should’ve been more careful. He didn’t hear the man creep up on him while he helped someone else. But as soon as he turned around, he got a knife to his lower right side. 

Now, after webbing the creep guy to the wall and calling the police on him, he was staying in the shower in his room at the Stark Tower. He was staying here for the week, since his aunt was going to visit some friends up north. 

He hissed when he leaned over and grabbed a wash rag. He had tried to clean it earlier but it was too painful. Now...the pain was even worse, if possible. He placed the rag on the wound but pulled in away instantly. 

Infected...that had to be what was going on. 

He shakily stepped out, wondering what he should do as he wrapped a towel around his waist. He kept a wash rag under the stab wound, not pressing too hard. He stared into the mirror, his face paling more and more with each passing minute. He hated the way he looked, pale and bag under eyes. 

He groaned slightly before leaning down and grabbed the medical kit from below the sink. Peter grabbed out some bandages and the needle and thread he kept under his sink just in case something like this happens. 

Peter tried, he really tried, to stitch himself up. But the pain was too much and his head was starting to hurt. He felt woozy and sick from the stab wound. 

"Help...I need help..." He muttered under his breath as put the needle and thread down on the counter. He took a deep breath before placing the rag on the wound, nearly screaming and blacking out from the pain. 'Who knew it would be this painful?' He thought bitterly as he wrapped up the injury. 

Once he was done, he dizzily got dressed. He walked out of his bathroom and into his room and stared at his bed for a few minutes, wanting nothing more than to lay down and sleep. But the burning pain in his side stopped him. 'Mr. Stark first...then I can sleep later, after knowing I’m not going to die in my sleep.' He thought as he opened his door and peeked out. 

It was nearly one in the morning, so maybe this was a bad idea. He could wait until morning, right? In his head, he said yes. But his side and the pain said no, he needed help now. 

Stupid creep creeping up on his with a knife...how dare he? 

"H-hey, FRI?" Peter whispered to the ceiling. 

"Yes, Peter?" FRIDAY answered quietly. He was glad, he didn’t want to wake up anyone. "How can I assist you tonight? Though you should still be sleeping." 

"I know. I know. I need Mr. Stark. Where is he?" Peter leaned again the wall, closing the door behind him. 

"He’s currently in the lab. Would you like me to tell him that you are on the way?" 

"No, no! It’s fine. I can do it!" With his hands on his side, he began limping, though he wasn’t hurt there, to the lab. 

"Peter, you have a knife hole in your side, if not treated properly, it could get infected. Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark of your injury?" 

"No, that’s why I’m heading over there. Thanks, FRI." She didn’t say anything after that, and Peter was glad. He was getting dizzier and dizzier with each step he took to the lab. 

Once he was there, he stood by the door. He blinked many times trying to clear his vision. While keeping his left hand on his side, he reached out and opened the door. He stepped in quietly, his eyes trained on his mentor. 

'Is this what he does at one in the morning? Every morning?' He blinked away the thought, then closed the door. He looked over at the desk, where Tony was standing over something. 

Peter couldn’t really see what, but that didn’t matter. He needed help, that’s why he was down here. 

"Mr. Stark?" Peter said. He saw Tony jump, dropping a screwdriver on the floor and turning to him with a frown. 

"What are you doing up? You’re supposed to be in bed." He bent down to grabbed the screwdriver. He straightened up, then pointed it at his face. "You heard what Aunt Hottie said, 'Stay up passed ten, she'll kill me." 

Peter squinted but everything was already blurring. He was shivering, which was weird because he was hot. 

"Are you even listening?" Tony's sharp voice caught him off guard and he had to lean against the wall to keep balanced. 

"Ummm...no." Peter muttered. "But that doesn’t matter! I need some-." 

"Nope, to bed with you." Tony looked down at the small thing in his hands. 

"W-what? No, wait a-." 

"Peter...I mean it. Bed!" Tony whipped around, pointing at his with the screwdriver again. "Now!" 

Peter froze. He huffed before whipping around and marching out of the room, slamming the door closed. 

When he got to his room a few minutes later, he laid down in his bed and covered up in his blankets. He blinked back the tears in his eyes, from the pain or from being rejected, he wasn’t sure. He rolled to his left side, arms on his side, and curled up. 

Peter didn’t care how much it hurt, many it would patch itself up over night. He took him nearly an hour before falling asleep. 

When he came to in the morning, the sun shining through the window, he knew he made a mistake. He knew he should’ve told Tony that he was hurt, he should’ve pushed just to get the help that he needed. 

Because now, he felt awful. He shivered, his body shaking from the chills. But he was hot too, almost sweating and he still wore the blanket. He knew he had a fever, what else would be causing him to feel this terrible? 

Peter went to move his hands when he noticed it. The feeling of something warm and wet on his side and hands. He froze and tried not to move too much. 

He went to sit up, but his side made him stop. He let out a low whimper of pain as he did. With shaking hands, he slowly pulled off the blankets and put them right back in, his stomach churning. 

"FRI..." He muttered, his eyes filling with tears. ‘Don’t cry...do not cry right now.' But he glanced down at the blankets again, his blood covering him and some of the blankets. 

He couldn’t do this. He needed help. Though his only help last night was too concerned about what his aunt was going to do if she found out. 

"Yes, Peter?" FRIDAY said back. "Your side seems to be infected and you appear to be bleeding out rather quickly. Would you like me to tell Mr. Stark of your current situation?" 

"Please? Please, FRI? And hurry..." He pushed himself to a sitting position, nearly screaming at the movement. He leaned his back on the headboard, closing his eyes. 

"He’s on his way now." FRIDAY responded with a little bit of urgency in her voice. Then she said no more. 

Peter stared down at the blankets, then slowly pushed them away from his side. He gagged this time, this time screaming at the movements. He felt tears run down his cheeks. With both hands on his side, he finally just sobbed. 

Sobbed harder than he ever had before.

Tony was not in a good mood that morning. 

Reason one, he didn’t get any sleep. Reason two, Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner will not shut up no matter how many times he asked them to. Reason three, why in the world would Peter be up that late last night? Something wasn’t right when he had walked in, Tony could see it on his face. But he had pushed him away because he was busy, busy working on something that didn’t even work when he was done with it. 

Yes, that’s was another reason why he was upset. The stupid machine he had worked on for hours didn’t work, blew up in his face actually. 

He grabbed a mug of coffee, then pored himself some coffee with a yawn. He was exhausted, all he wanted to do was lay down and just sleep. Which he should’ve done when he had sent Peter back to bed at one in the morning. 

Only then did he looked around and realize Peter was still not awake yet. He looked down at his phone...9:45. Tony simply shook his head. ‘Should’ve gone to bed when your aunt told you to, kid.' He thought as he sat down on a stool at the bar. 

"You look beat." Steve said, his eyebrows raised. "What time did you go to bed?" 

"Didn’t." Tony said, sipping on the coffee. "Too busy." 

"I thought you had stopped that since the kid came along, just to get him to sleep too?" Bruce leaned forward on his stool, interest on his face. Steve nodded towards the hallway with all the bedrooms. 

"Where is he anyway? He’s normally bouncing all over the place by now." They chuckled softly, but Tony scowled deeply. 

"Peter was up at one this morning, came to the lab and everything, you know?" Bruce frowned. 

"Why would be do that? He knows not to be you." He blinked a few times before adding. "Not in a bad way...just, you know, your sleeping habits are not good for a teenage boy with enhanced powers." 

Tony just nodded, sipping on the coffee and remembering all that had happened last night. 

Peter had walked in without him realizing. And then called out to him but didn’t say anything after. Tony had told him off, but he wasn’t even listening to him. By then, Tony was tired and upset and he yelled at him to go to bed. Peter had even tried to talk his way out of it, but Tony had enough and yelled. 

Peter had even slammed the door closed, which Tony had been surprised when it happened. He had almost stopped what he was working on but refused. If the kid was upset, let him be upset. And went right back to working with the machine, which blew up a minute later. 

Tony slipped on his coffee, which almost gone by now, and watched the others talk in front of him. He just finished his coffee and was up to get another when FRIDAY's voice from above spoke. 

"Sir, Peter needs some assistance right now." She said, almost sounded urgent. Tony placed his coffee mug down, and then grabbed the coffee beans from the cabinets. He needed another cup before he does anything. 

"What does he need, FRIDAY?" Tony heard Steve ask. 

"Peter asked for Tony." FRIDAY responded hurriedly. "Sir, you might want to get down there right now." Tony rubbed his hurting head and groaned. 

"Can’t he come in here and ask?" Tony was frustrated, frustrated with everything at this point. 

"No, sir. The injury seems a lot worse than he thought." Tony froze and the room went dead quiet. He looked to Bruce and then over to Steve. They both looked worried. 

"In-injury?" He muttered worriedly. 

"A stab wound he tried to tell you about, but I guess you pushed him away because of work?" 

But Tony was already running towards the room, the only thing he had heard was stab wound. After that, he ran as fast as his tired body could carry him. 

He got to the door, turned the handle and slammed his body against it to open it faster. But nothing had prepared him for the sight that was waiting for him. 

Peter was sitting with his back against the headboard. He was sobbing hard, yelping with every other cry. Both his hands were on his side and Tony could see it. The blood on his clothes, on the blankets, and on his hands. 

Tony rushed to his side, the smell of blood hanging in the air. He couldn’t look down, he couldn’t. He needed to focus on Peter's face, make sure he stayed awake. 

"Peter? Peter, talk to me...please?" Peter looked up slowly, the cries slowly ever so slightly. He was so pale...too pale. 

"Mr. S-Stark?" He choked out. He glanced down at his eyes and brought his eyes back up to his. "H-help...please?" 

"Yes, yes, just hold on." Tony didn’t waste any time. He put his arms under his knees and back. "I’m sorry." Then he lifted Peter, who screamed loudly, into his arms. "Hold on, hold on." He began running to the door and down the hall. 

"Mr. Stark?" Peter was sobbing again, shaking so hard Tony was scared something was seriously wrong besides the knife wound. 

"Hold on, Peter. Hang in there. FRIDAY! Get Bruce to the MedBay and hurry!" 

"He’s already on the way, along with Steve." FRIDAY responded. 

"Thanks...thanks." He glanced down at Peter, worry and guilt fighting in his mind. He should’ve listened to him last night, he should’ve noticed something was off. 

"St-stop...Mr. Stark..." Peter muttered softly, but Tony didn’t stop running down the stairs. 

"I can’t lose you. I have to keep running." He pulled open a door and ran through it, hearing it slam behind them. 

"N-no...stop bl-blaming...yourself." Peter cried out the last part, his back arching a little. He cried even harder after that. 

"This is my fault. All my fault." Tony said, then turned down the last hallway to the MedBay. He saw Bruce staying at the door, his eyes wide when landing on Peter. 

They practically ran into the room, and Tony placed Peter down on the medical bed. Peter was nearly out of his, his eyes half closed but the tears were still there. Tony ran his hand through his hair as Bruce was quick to pull up his bloody shirt and move his hands away from it. 

Tony couldn’t look at it, he kept his eyes on Peter’s face. He heard Bruce talking about stitching it up and Steve saying about how bad it looked from where he was stand, which was across the room. He leaned close to his face, whisking into his ear.

"I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you." He said. Peter weakly turned his head to him, a slight but pain filled smile on his face. 

"S'not your...fa-fault." His ghostly pale face seemed a little bit more relaxed. He was still crying, just not as hard. 

"It is. It’s all my fault." But Peter eyes were already close and his breathing was slowing. "Bruce?" 

"Everyone out! Emergency surgery is need! Out!" 

Peter blinked his eyes opened. He looked up at the ceiling for a good minute before realizing what had happened. He sat up and gasped at the pain. But it wasn’t as bad as it was...earlier. He looked around the room, but it was empty. 

He really didn’t want to stay in here. So he swung his feet off the bed and stood, steadying himself against the bed. He definitely wasn’t as dizzy as last night. 

He glanced down at his side, but it was covered up by a hospital gown someone had put on his when he passed out. He pressed his hand on his side lightly, feeling the bandages against the gown. No pain, not like last night. 

Peter walked slowly out of the room and down the hall. He went up the elevator and down a few more halls. FRIDAY had asked where he was going and he had told her he was going to Tony. 

"Would you like me to alert him that you are coming?" She had asked, her voice not holding any concern this time. 

"No, no! It’s fine! Would you mind telling me where he is though?" 

"He’s in the kitchen with Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner." 

"Thanks, FRI." 

He walked down the hall, hearing the voices from the kitchen while he walked. 

"This is all my fault, guys. I should’ve listened to him, I should’ve saw the difference in him when he came down to the lab, I should’ve put down what I was doing and helped. But I pushed him away like he wasn’t important." Peter hated how defeated he sounded, like he was really beating himself down because of this. 

"The kids going to be fine, Tony." Steve said encouragingly. "He’s really strong, you know?" 

"Yep." Bruce said, popping the 'p'. "I patched him up nice and right this time. He should be fine." 

"Should be?" Tony nearly shrieked. Peter smiled slightly before walking into the room, everyone turning around to see him. 

"Peter!" They all yelled at once. Peter winced at the loud sound and Tony instantly told the others to leave the room. But they didn’t move. They watched as Tony stepped closer to Peter. 

"I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking and then this morning happened and I couldn’t..." Even Peter himself was shocked that he had simply walked up to him and wrapped his arms around his neck. 

"Stop blaming yourself." Peter muttered, his voice a little raspy from whatever had happened. "I should’ve pushed forward." Tony had simply wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his head on Peter’s shoulder. 

"I thought I was going to lose you." He muttered. Peter leaned back and smiled widely. 

"But you didn’t. I’m still here." Tony smiled softly and they hugged one more time, this time not as long. 

Later, Tony was sitting on the couch watching tv with Peter’s head laying on his lap, fast asleep. Tony couldn’t help but think maybe he was turning into a dad more than he wanted to admit. 

He ran his hand through his hair, making Peter smile slightly in his sleep. Tony leaned his head back, forgetting about all the bad things that could’ve happened. He focused on what was going on now, this bond getting stronger with each passing day. 

And he was wishing it would never end.


End file.
